


99.9% Void (0.1% Stars)

by depozyt



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Ice Cream Parlors, Loss of Identity, M/M, Men In Black AU, Mild Smut, sarcasm is off the rails in this one, urban gothic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:33:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depozyt/pseuds/depozyt
Summary: The leaflet is blank, save for the bold text in the center; “The Void is hiring NOW!” it says. There’s also a phone number.It has to be a joke, right? No actual, serious, company could possibly be called “The Void”, that would be too on the nose.He dials the number anyway.(Jongdae wonders how it's possible to forget about the end of the world. And yet he did, everyone did. )
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 23
Kudos: 66
Collections: SnowSpark Fest Round One





	99.9% Void (0.1% Stars)

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #142, written for the SnowSpark fic fest  
> author's note: you've heard of small-town gothic, now get ready for mid-size town gothic! if you blended the first mib movie and welcome to night vale's aesthetic, you'd probably get something akin to this piece! the biggest thanks to my beta, if not for your input this would've been unreadable at times, you're the best help i could've hoped for <3
> 
> dear prompter, i just want you to know that the moment i saw your prompt i dropped everything and had to write it lol you asked for humor, there is some, but it's mostly sarcasm and movie references. nevertheless, i hope you'll like it
> 
> TWs: smoking, drinking, mentions of catastrophic events, loss of identity.

The bus stop is all fogged up and the street light behind it flickers in a way that any other day would’ve bothered Jongdae, but right now he's too preoccupied with his thoughts to care. He's so done. 

He's done with showing to an interview only to leave it knowing he won't get the job. And it's not like he attends many of them. Most applications don't go anywhere, they're just swallowed by the endless pit of the company’s inbox, only to be spit out in the virtual trash bin. 

Jongdae goes through his pockets hoping to find that last piece of chewing gum he’s been saving, instead he finds a folded up leaflet. A normal thing to be completely honest, most days Jongdae can’t refuse but to take every last one of them from the people standing on the street corners. Sometimes the papers start to overfill his pockets, they crumple up and Jongdae starts to nervously tear them apart to relieve some stress. He always forgets to take them out before washing his pants and the paper turns into mush that clogs his pipes.

This one is different. It doesn’t graciously inform him about the new MLM scheme that will surely change his life. Jongdae tried selling milkshakes for a week, he was told he didn’t have the charisma to “be his own boss” after he had pointed out that the business model sounds like a pyramid scheme or some payday loan. No, the leaflet is blank, save for the bold text in the center; “The Void is hiring NOW!”, it says.

There’s also a phone number.

Jongdae throws the piece of paper into his bag, his bus is coming. 

👁️👁️👁️

Jongdae lives in an apartment building that somehow looks older than it actually is. It can't be much older than him, he even faintly remembers walking home from school and passing by it, but the walls on the hallways are already grey and scratched all over, revealing the concrete underneath. The front door is covered in graffiti and stickers of local football teams, as well as symbols Jongdae doesn't want to know the true meaning of. Same thing with the elevator.

Some buildings tend to age in this way, forgotten, not taken care of, overgrown with moss and overfilled with trash until people abandon them so they can ultimately collapse.

Fashion photographers go to places like this to capture a gritty “aesthetic”, to give their photos an edge. Jongdae just has to live here because the rent is cheap, and he’s currently unemployed which means he simply can't afford to move.

From a purely technical standpoint, moving out wouldn't be much of a problem. He doesn't have many things, just clothes, his laptop, and some books. There's also the neighborhood cat he feeds on a regular basis. Jongdae probably couldn't bring himself not to take her with him. She's seen him cry during _The Notebook_ and she's going to take this secret to her little fluffy grave with her. 

So yeah, clothes that could all fit in a decently sized sports bag, his miraculously working laptop, some trinkets, maybe… three bags full of books, and a cat that's seen too much, that's all Jongdae's got. Some call it minimalism, Jongdae calls it having to pay rent while having no financial support. 

He pulls out the leaflet again once he's fixed himself some dinner, and just stares at the lettering until the words don't look real anymore. It has to be a joke, right? No actual, serious, company could possibly be called “The Void”, that would be too on the nose. But then again, maybe it’s a new, hip, woke, whatever, marketing campaign that’s designed to lure in young people. Maybe there’s an IT company called “Skynet” too?

Jongdae dials the number anyway. 

"Hello?" he hears someone on the other line ask. Jongdae fights with himself not to hang up out of sheer panic because this is a real phone number and, yes, someone has answered the call.

"Yes, hello," Jongdae collects himself. "I'm calling to ask about the–uhm–job offer?" _Yes, sound absolutely terrified, that's what's gonna win people over._

"Oh, right. I'm the manager, Kim Minseok!" the man says rather enthusiastically. He doesn’t sound like an eldritch abomination, which could be a real possibility considering how his business is called, so that’s already something Jongdae can work with.

“Are you hiring?” Jongdae asks after Minseok doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Maybe they aren’t.

“Oh, yes, absolutely! Sorry, I’m a bit busy right now. I’ll text you the address and the time!” he says in a rush and then abruptly hangs up.

The text comes a few minutes later. Jongdae doesn’t recognize the street name, he’s lived in this city since birth.

👁️👁️👁️

The Void turns out to be a hole in the wall ice cream parlor, at least that’s what it says on the paper stuck to the window with pieces of galaxy washi tape. Jongdae wishes his eyesight was failing him, but he didn't get laser eye surgery to allow that. No, the neon sign before him is very real and very pink. Its light bleeds into the afternoon darkness typical of winter months, illuminating the world around it in an unnatural hue.

Jongdae steps inside, his attention is immediately captured by the pastel interior, the tiles are pale-green, pink and white, the same thing with the tables. He wouldn’t be able to assign any time period to the decor, to him it looks like the 90s idea of how the 60s not looked—but felt like. It seems both timeless and dated. One of the walls is covered with “I want to believe” posters, there’s also an old Zenith TV in the corner. Jongdae feels like he’s visiting his parents’ old apartment. 

He goes up to the counter and rings the little bell. What immediately catches his attention is the ice cream flavors, he can’t help but chuckle. They’re named after different cryptids.

Chocolate is called Chupacabra, vanilla is Vampire, strawberry is Sasquatch. And Jongdae is absolutely delighted.

He sees someone emerge from the staffroom. “Are you Jongdae?” he asks, Jongdae nods in confirmation.

“I’m Minseok, we talked on the phone?” Jongdae has to force himself to focus on what the man’s saying because he surely doesn’t look like a void creature. Or maybe he does, but in that instance, Jongdae wouldn’t mind getting sucked into the deepest depths of it.

“Yes, right,” he collects himself. “Could you show me around?" 

Jongdae doesn't remember much from the short tour because he's busy staring at Minseok's silver hair. He looks so good and Jongdae can't take his eyes off of him.

"Sorry," he says when the other man notices. "It really suits you." Jongdae melts a little when he sees the smile Minseok gives him in return.

“So this is basically an Instagram trap?” Jongdae asks after the short tour, wondering how does that even work. But it has to, right? Otherwise, it wouldn’t get opened.

“Kind of, also the owner has always dreamed of owning an ice cream shop,” Minseok answers, giving Jongdae the prettiest smile. And yeah, okay, his heart melts a little. 

It’s not that Jongdae doesn’t believe him, people have dumb dreams, sometimes even dumber ambitions. Once upon a time Jongdae wanted to be a secret agent and that obviously didn’t happen, so maybe he’s just jealous he didn’t fulfill the dream he had at 5 years old. Maybe the owner’s parents are loaded, maybe he took out a loan, it doesn’t matter, what does is that the pay isn’t bad. That’s enough for Jongdae.

He can throw his college graduate pride aside, his manager is cute and Jongdae’s sick of being so cynical and picky. He can work in an ice cream shop that opens in the middle of winter, why the fuck not. 

Jongdae reads through the contract, two weeks notice, something about OSHA violations, yeah, yeah, he knows all of this. He signs it without a second word. 

“What’s the schedule?”

👁️👁️👁️

Jongdae missed working with teenagers, at least they have a sense of humor, unlike most of the adults. Kyungsoo looks very much like a typical seventeen-year-old with his pierced brow, a tasteful amount of eyeliner and prominent bags under his eyes. His clothes smell like cheap tobacco. Jongdae doesn’t miss high school, he doesn’t miss any stage of education. Even kindergarten was kind of shitty.

"You smoke?" he asks Kyungsoo, his nose twitching in disgust. 

"My roommate does.” One of the high schools nearby has dorms. Jongdae didn’t go there but he had friends who did. It didn't sound enticing.

“That’s allowed?” He raises his eyebrows, he’s sure it’s not.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “Obviously not. Are you that old that it was when you went to school?” he asks and Jongdae feels a strong urge to listen to some MCR to feel that teenage angst again. He loves this kid already.

 _if someone ever hurts kyungsoo, they’re dead,_ Jongdae texts Minseok when his shift’s over.

 _I agree,_ answers his new manager.

Jongdae’s glad he’s found a second member of his local “Goth Kids Protection Squad”.

👁️👁️👁️

There’s another cat sitting next to Tan on the fire escape that evening. Jongdae doesn’t hesitate for a second and sets some of the dry food aside for him. Jongdae knows it’s a _him_ , cats may not care for the imposed human gender roles, but this cat still has his balls, which is enough for Jongdae to get into the cat's business with masculine pronouns.

“I’m not the most creative with names,” he says in the direction of the cat. “But you have to have one. Her name’s Tan, would you mind if I called you Cos? You know, short for Cosinus. Or Cosmos, whatever fancies you more.”

Cos meows at him and Jongdae takes that as a sign of approval. He sits on the escape, his legs dangling off, and looks at the lights below him. If it were a scene in a movie, he’d be smoking a cigarette while dramatically looking into the pitch-black sky. But Jongdae doesn’t smoke, the smell of tobacco makes him gag and the sky is light-polluted, so he just stares at the city below him. It seems like no one has curtains in this part of town. He can see _everything_.

There’s a family having dinner, a young couple fighting, a group of teens studying in the kitchen, a lot of lonely people watching TV, a lot of pitch-black apartments too. The new cat meows at him again.

“What?” Jongdae asks and this time Cos outright screams in his kitty glory. “Look, I don’t speak Cat. You have to be clearer." 

Cos unceremoniously steps on his thighs like they're a podium designed especially for him, looking Jongdae straight in the eyes. The cat's fur is dark grey, and really soft to the touch, his eyes are warm brown, contrasting with the cool-toned coat, around his neck there's a black collar with a charm. Jongdae takes a closer look. There's no name tag, no phone number or a home address, not even the cat’s name, only a pendant that looks like a marble with a galaxy inside. Jongdae swears he can see individual stars.

"I picked a good name for you," Jongdae says with a smile, Cosmos starts to purr and demand pets.

Jongdae doesn't mind, he can stay for a little longer.

👁️👁️👁️

It's only his second day at work and Jongdae already feels like he met God and he spat in his face like a llama. He forgot how working in customer service sucks all his desire to live out of him. There's a wasted guy in the men's restroom. 

It wouldn't be that weird if he worked in a popular pub, but it's 8 PM on a Wednesday, and he works in an ice cream parlor that just opened. 

"There’s a drunk guy in the restroom,” Kyungsoo says even though everyone, and their mother, in the parlor knows.

“I’m aware,” Jongdae mutters while counting up the change in the cash register. “I’ll deal with him later.”

Kyungsoo simply shrugs and puts on his black jean jacket. “See you over the weekend.” He waves at Jongdae and goes outside to join his (boy)friend. To be young, free and not have to deal with fucked-up people residing in the bathroom stall you have to clean anyway.

Jongdae counts the bills, fills the report, and prays the man goes away on his own. Of course, it doesn’t happen, because nothing nice ever happens to Jongdae. But it’s fine, it’s totally okay, he tells himself as he calls Minseok to help him deal with the problematic guest. 

They step into the restroom and it’s grey inside with cigarette smoke, thankfully the alarm didn’t go off. The man is desperately holding on to the windowsill like it’s a handrail in a bus that’s driving through a neighborhood with particularly bad roads. Jongdae counts to ten under his breath. 

“Sir, could you please exit the restroom, it’s late, we’re closing,” Jongdae says, strange pride resonating in his chest, he doesn’t sound half as tired as he actually is. 

The man grumbles something in response as he turns to face them. He’s young, a graduate student maybe, his clothes look expensive, certainly not the type to get pissed drunk in a random bathroom. Actually, scratch that, he's exactly the type. 

Jongdae takes a closer look at him when he doesn't respond and the drunkard's eyes flash unnaturally white for a second. 

" _The sky will soon turn crimson again, and black blood will drip from the highest buildings, drowning the world. The men cloaked in darkness are at fault but so is the outlander."_

Right, he's not only drunk but high as a kite too. Fantastic. Jongdae and Minseok sigh at the same time. They step up to the man.

“Sir, please, exit the bathroom.” He doesn’t respond in any way, instead, he lifts his hand and before he can do anything, Jongdae grips his wrist, twisting his arm thus preventing him from moving a centimeter.

“Easy there,” says Minseok looking somewhat concerned. “We don’t want to hurt him.”

“Sorry, I don’t know where that came from,” Jongdae explains. He really doesn’t know, he can’t remember ever being in a fight or having any exposure to martial arts except for playing fighting video games. And yet he overpowered another person in one swift motion.

The man doesn’t say or attempt to do anything after that. Minseok checks his wallet for the address to give to the taxi driver.

"Okay, I know it sounds super weird but—could you try to put me in a headlock? I want to try something," Jongdae asks once they are at the parking lot with the parlor already closed. Somehow, Minseok doesn't question him.

"If you tap out, hit my arm three times, I'll know what you mean," he says and steps aside. 

Jongdae can hear Minseok walking towards him from behind, something in him screams to turn around and attack him before he has a chance to. It's a weird feeling for sure. He’s not in any real danger, he knows Minseok wouldn’t try to hurt him, but a fundamental part of him can’t come to terms with that fact. 

Before Minseok has a chance to put his arm around Jongdae's neck, he feels his chest press against his back, Jongdae hook's one of his legs behind Minseok's and turns around abruptly, throwing him down on the ground. It's one quick motion done without a second thought, almost automatic. Jongdae stares in disbelief at what he's done. He kneels next to Minseok on the pavement, his pants getting a bit wet. 

"Fuck, I'm so sorry—I didn't think that would work. I'm so sorry," he frantically says as he reaches to check the other man's breathing or whether he's bleeding.

Instead of getting angry, Minseok throws his head back and starts laughing, his eyes crinkle with something akin to awe or even admiration.

"That was so cool! God, my ass hurts, but god, you need to teach me this!" He sits up and takes Jongdae's hands into his. "Please?" he asks like a little kid. Jongdae's a bit too aware of how close Minseok's face is in relation to his, he can feel his breath on his cheek.

"Alright?" Jongdae tries not to lose his balance while also memorizing every detail of Minseok's face. "Are you sure you're fine though?"

"Yes, yes, I'm completely fine." He gives Jongdae a reassuring smile. "You can stand up now, you're kinda in my way," he chuckles.

Jongdae collects himself and hides his red face under his scarf. He starts tearing up the leaflets residing in his pockets.

“I really don’t know what or how that happened,” Jongdae admits to Minseok when they’re already in his car. The manager agreed to give him a ride because they apparently live nearby, Jongdae doesn’t complain. 

Minseok shrugs, his profile illuminated by street lamps they pass by. “It was kinda hot though.”

Jongdae doesn’t respond, he just silently sits in his seat for the rest of the ride, feeling strangely flattered.

👁️👁️👁️

There's a guy in a trench coat sitting by one of the tables. Jongdae measures him up.

The coat's expensive, his shoes don't look worn out, his hair is perfectly styled and he's furiously typing on his laptop. Jongdae's sure he can see an earpiece peeking through his hair. He's ordered a cup of black coffee, no sugar, twenty minutes ago. He hasn't taken a sip since. 

"Minseok!" Jongdae calls. "Chupacabra's out!" He opens the door to the backroom and makes sure to lock it behind him.

"Huh?" Minseok looks up from the stack of papers. "But I made sure there's enough—" 

"Minseok, there's a fed by the table four," Jongdae cuts in and sits on the desk with his arms crossed.

"A what?" The look on Minseok's face could be used as a dictionary entry for the word confusion. 

"A fed? Federal agent? FBI?" 

"How would you know?"

"He has an earpiece! And it's not an airpod! Minseok, why the fuck would a federal agent go here?" Jongdae feels likes he's gonna implode. He's finally found a job that doesn't make him want to drop everything and mysteriously disappear in a national park only to never be found.

The pay’s good, his boss isn’t a dick, he’s actually handsome and really nice, but Jongdae’s not staying here if Minseok’s a mob boss. Not for a stupid crush.

“I don’t know,” Minseok sounds like a confused little kid that just wanted to hug his pet fish, and doesn’t understand that Dorry’s now dead and it’s his fault. 

Jongdae does a double-take. “Oh. I guess I expected you to say that this parlor was a cover-up for a cult, or there were kidnapped children in the basement. My bad,” he can’t help the sarcasm sipping through. 

“This building has no basement.”

“But there are kidnapped children here?” Jongdae blinks in surprise.

“No!”

“Then why is the fed here?” Jongdae wants answers and it doesn’t matter to him if he has to be a little bitchy to get them.

Someone knocks on the office doors. Jongdae feels like he needs an aspirin.

👁️👁️👁️

Junmyeon’s a nice fed, he really is. Well, Jongdae doesn’t have much experience with the FBI besides watching a shitton of movies and TV shows involving them in some way, but he’s never met an agent in real life. Until now that is. 

He seems likable, he doesn’t yell or try to intimidate them, but there's an aura of unnatural friendliness about him, the kind of aura Jongdae thought only incompetent child psychologists have. He has experience with those.

Junmyeon tells them not to worry, that this was just a routine check-up, that nothing concerning was discovered, that everything is fine. What a pile of bullshit, nothing’s fine. Jongdae knows he's lying, he can hear it in the way he puts an accent on certain words, in the expressions he's using, in the way certain vowels sound just wrong. It's so obvious.

It’s so obvious he wants to scream.

"He was lying through his teeth," Jongdae concludes after Junmyeon says his goodbyes and finally leaves the building, his coffee forgotten. 

"What do you mean? He said everything was fine." Minseok raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah and Kyungsoo isn't actively trying to bone the tall jock." Jongdae rolls his eyes.

"You mean Chanyeol? Oh, they would make a lovely pair!" Minseok's eyes light up.

"How do you remember his na—you know, that's not the point. Right, the fed. He was here for a reason, Minseok. And if you don't tell me now, I'll still find out someday." Jongdae storms off.

He returns behind the cash register, leaving Minseok all alone in his office. For the rest of his shift, he wants to go back there and apologize for lashing out, but at the end of it, he doesn’t say anything. Jongdae gets the bus that evening, going home alone makes him feel like shit.

He can’t really pint point why he reacted that way. Feelings aren’t always logical, but that hasn’t as of yet stopped Jongdae from dissecting them like they’re a corpse of an alien species and try to come up with timelines, graphs, and Venn diagrams. But there’s no reason, nothing he can blame his behavior on and it’s making him feel even worse.

👁️👁️👁️

He's sure he's heard either Tan or Cos scratch on the front door, but when he opens it, there's his manager waiting outside. Not exactly a stray cat waiting to be fed.

"Minseok?" Jongdae asks intelligently. That much he can see. "What are you doing here?"

Minseok looks at him like he doesn't know it himself.

"I was nearby and—uhm—I guess I wanted to apologize?” he says, sounding as if he’s reading from a teleprompter and he’s waiting for the text to catch up.

“For what?”

“For today? I don’t know, I just feel bad about the whole situation. Sorry for wasting your time, I should go.” There’s a resigned look on his face, it brings his eyes down and makes his mouth seem small. Jongdae wants to hug him, he was too harsh.

He opens the door in an inviting gesture. “Come in,” he says.

Minseok doesn’t hesitate. Once he’s taking off his jacket and shoes, Jongdae puts the kettle on.

“I think—I should apologize actually. I—My reaction was inappropriate, you’re still my supervisor, not my colleague. I’m sorry for acting so,” he chuckles, ”bitchy, yeah, that’s the right word.”

Minseok chuckles as well. “I agree,” he warms his hands against the hot cup, “but please, don’t treat me like a boss. Look, I—we’re the same age, I feel awkward,” he laughs.

Jongdae smiles at him. “So we have a deal. I won’t act like I’m a character in Mean Girls—”

“You can wear pink on Wednesdays, I won’t stop you,” Minseok cuts in, proud of himself for making the joke. He looks like a cat who has thrown the plant of the shelf and his owner hasn’t noticed yet.

Jongdae can’t help but laugh at his expression. “I’ll dig out my only pink sweater especially for you.”

“Just don’t write my name down in the Burn Book.”

“Deal.”

Minseok doesn’t leave immediately after they resolve the issue. No, he stays for one more cup of tea, only to then start reminiscing about the movies from the early 00s, which immediately catches Jongdae’s attention. After they exhaust that topic, there are only so many jokes to be made about how bad the prequels are, Jongdae has the brilliant idea to offer Minseok a beer. Somehow they both end up at his couch, praying to the Chromecast gods to let them cast the movie from Minseok’s phone. And when they finish it’s not that late and maybe, just maybe, Jongdae doesn’t want Minseok to leave yet so he puts on another one. Somehow thanks to this chain of actions, 2 AM comes, and Jongdae starts to get sleepy.

He notices Minseok putting on his shoes.

“Where do think you’re going?” Jongdae asks like he’s some middle-aged mom of three.

“Home?”

“No, you’re not. You’re sleeping here.” Jongdae points at his couch because he’s still laying on it. “Well, maybe not actually on the couch. I mean in my apartment. You can sleep in my bed if you’re fine with that.”

“Do you change your sheets every week?” Minseok asks starting to take off the one shoe he managed to put on.

“Yes? I’m civilized thank you very much.”

Minseok beams at him. “Only if you insist, my dear.”

Jongdae throws a cushion at him and Minseok lets out a squeal when it hits his head. Of course, Minseok counterattacks with an even bigger pillow, which in turn makes Jongdae roll off the couch, his head currently laying on the cheap, oriental rug. In his useless, tipsy state, he can only start laughing. Minseok joins him on the floor. 

"I don't know why you find your own rug funny, but I want you to know that I'll accept you no matter what." 

"I fuckin' hate this thing."

Minseok leans over him. "Why?"

"It's old, worn-out and I—I don't know. Let me hate it." Jongdae rolls over on his back, his gaze stuck on the crack on the ceiling. God, this is a much bigger eyesore.

"I mean, I won’t stop you. But if you don't like it, and have no use for it, throw it out," Minseok says it like it's the most obvious thing. Okay, it is pretty obvious, but Jongdae likes to masochistically subject himself to things he doesn't necessarily enjoy, or outright hates, like this damn rug. So this outlook on life is revolutionary for him.

Tomorrow he's going to wake up and wonder why was it so important to get rid of it, but right now he has a mission.

"Minseok? Help me roll the rug," he says standing up. 

The man chuckles, Jongdae can't really take himself seriously either. "I can't believe we're doing this, at 2 AM nonetheless," Minseok says while lifting his half of the oriental burrito of shame—also known as _that damn rug._

"You're telling me, you never decided to start getting your life together in the middle of the night?" Jongdae closes the door behind him and helps him get into the elevator. 

"Okay, you got me." Minseok smiles at him, his back almost touching the floor number buttons

Jongdae takes a moment to look at him. "I know I said it before, but I really like your hair," he says in a sudden surge of drunken honesty.

Minseok instinctively touches his currently dark-red hair. "Thank you, I—" the elevator ping cuts off his sentence.

It's not even that cold outside, but Jongdae shivers when he feels the fresh air hit his skin for the first time. They leave the rug near the entrance, maybe someone will want it, but otherwise, it will get picked up with trash in a few days.

“Jongdae? It may sound dumb, it certainly sounds unhelpful at first, but please, take baby steps. No one gets better right away and I see that you’re trying.” Minseok puts a hand on his shoulder.

Jongdae nods, afraid that if he says anything in response, the tears prickling his eyes will ruin everything. 

“It must be hard, I—I guess what I’m trying to say by this is that I’m here for you. Or rather, I can be, if you wish so.” This must be Minseok’s time for drunken confessions, but Jongdae appreciates it, it means so much to him. He tries to hug him but he only ends up pushing Minseok at the elevator buttons, causing several of them to light up. He and Minseok take their chance and run out of the elevator as soon as they reach their floor.

Jongdae can't contain his laughter, he feels only a little bit bad for his neighbors who will have to listen to the moving elevator in the middle of the night.

He wakes up in the early morning to Minseok curled up on his side of the bed with Tan aggressively purring and trying to snuggle him. He hopes he can relive this moment someday.

👁️👁️👁️

There's a guy following Jongdae. He dramatically stops in the middle of the supermarket aisle and turns around to face him. Jongdae just wanted to buy some late-night snacks and he doesn't pay taxes for the government agents to judge what flavor of potato chips he likes. 

"You know, from what the media has taught me, I would have thought it was way more difficult to spot a fed." He looks the man in the eye. “Seriously, you guys are awful at this.”

The agent’s tall, lanky and he’s wearing an oversized raincoat, the only thing missing from the stereotypical FBI agent look are the sunglasses.

"I'm not a fed," the federal agent lies.

"There's a cable sticking out from under your shirt."

He panics and starts looking for it. "Oh shit, really? Junmyeon's gonna be pissed." He hides the cable even though it’s already too late. 

Jongdae sighs. "I'm sure you're right, now excuse me, I want to go home and eat my Cheetos in peace. So could you please leave me alone?" He tries to move past the man but he’s stopped when the agent grabs his arm.

"It's weekend for god's sake, don't you have like a day off today?" Jongdae asks and the agent shakes his head.

"Don't you want to know why was I following you?"

"Sir, this is a 7-eleven snack aisle. I’m in my sweats and I have work tomorrow, I don’t care.” Jongdae says even though he wants to know so, so badly.

The man raises his perfectly shaped eyebrows. “I’ll pay for your Slurpee if you listen to me complain about my work.”

Jongdae’s pretty sure that’s illegal, but he won’t say no to a free Slurpee in the name of following the federal law. 

In the span of the following hour, Jongdae learns three things. One, the agent’s name is Sehun. Two, Sehun is very gay for Junmyeon. Three, frankly, he doesn’t know why they told him to follow Jongdae. Well, that doesn't clear anything up.

Jongdae might like talking with Sehun, the man's pleasant to be around, but that doesn't answer any of his questions. Why are these damn federal agents suddenly following him? Is his fascination with conspiracy theories finally getting to him?

“Couldn’t you ask?” Jongdae sighs disappointed he's probably never gonna learn that information.

“We’ve been monitoring you for a couple of months. Funny thing, it’s always I and Junmyeon who get sent to check up on you. But yeah, I don’t know why, your profile is normal and kind of boring, to be honest.”

Jongdae wishes he had the self-confidence to be offended by this statement, but his profile really has to be utterly boring. He lives in a cheap apartment, has two cats, he majored in… Actually what college did he go to? _What_ was his major? When did he graduate?

He realizes he doesn’t know. He can’t remember.

Jongdae stares into his blueberry slushie trying to remember who was his roommate in college, the name of his ex-girlfriend, why did he move back to this damn city when he told himself he won't. But there’s nothing, not a trace of these memories in his head. He knows these people existed at some point, they had a name, a face, a personality, but they’re just blurry pictures in Jongdae’s mind, puzzles with missing pieces that will never form a full picture.

“Jongdae?” Sehun asks, his voice sounding concerned. He puts his hand on Jongdae's shoulder.

“I—I have to check something.” He stands up and quickly puts on his jacket, leaving Sehun by the table. “You definitely have my number somewhere, please, check up on me tomorrow, okay?” he tells Sehun as he leaves the store.

It's gotten cold outside, Jongdae shivers under his puffy jacket, in his mind he blames it on his thin scarf.

He dials Kyungsoo’s number on his way home, his shaky hands trying to properly navigate his phone’s UI without dropping the device on the ground. “Wanna sneak out of the dorm and earn a 20?” he asks when the teenager finally picks up.

“If they catch me, you’re my cousin and your cat ran away.”

He's fine with that.

👁️👁️👁️

Jongdae stares at his front door like it's a portal to another dimension. How long has he been living here? 

"You have your keys, right?" Kyungsoo asks, his voice flat.

“Yes, yes.” Jongdae goes through at least three pockets in his jacket before he finds them. Kyungsoo doesn’t look impressed. When he finally fishes them out, Jongdae realizes his hands are shaking so much there’s no way he’s going to be able to open the door.

Kyungsoo’s expression softens. “Let me.” He takes the keys from him.

“Both locks, you need to turn the key two times to open the upper,” Jongdae tells him. “I’m sorry for calling you this late.”

“Don’t be,” Kyungsoo reassures him. “What happened?” The teenager looks at him the way people do at children carrying something that's way too big for them, with worry and affection. He didn't have to answer Jongdae's call and go all this way for him, but he did. 

“I need you to help me look for something,” he tells him. Kyungsoo nods and smiles at him without a second word. 

Jongdae doesn’t have a lot of things in his apartment, there’s no space for that, but for some fucking reason, the amount of papers, of bills, of diplomas, of past contracts and all of that bullshit is staggering. It’s three boxes that contain the full record of his adult life, his identity. Just looking at it makes him want to give up and bury them in the playground behind the apartment complex. Jongdae thinks that no one would find them under the slide.

“What are we looking for?” Kyungsoo asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

Jongdae’s laugh sounds especially bitter today. “What I did after high school, so any record of employment, photos, and bills from the past ten years or so?”

Kyungsoo looks at him worried but doesn’t say anything, keeping any comments to himself. Jongdae knows it sounds insane but he also feels that way, so that’s at the very least appropriate. He’s so lost and nothing seems real anymore, there isn’t anyone who can help him understand what is happening right now. 

Going through the papers feels so surreal, like catching a glimpse from an alternate reality or realizing there’s no one walking on the sidewalk next to you when you could swear someone was following you. Jongdae doesn’t remember most of the things recorded in them. Apparently, he went on a business trip last year, he can’t remember leaving this town. His college diploma says he graduated with honors from a prestigious university, that he majored in criminology with a minor in accounting, he was sure he was a dropout from a masters program. He must have lived in a nice part of the city because his rent was trice what he has to pay this month.

Nothing makes sense anymore. Jongdae stands up from the cushion he’s been sitting on, he looks at the papers laid out on the whole floor of his tiny living room. It’s like a grey sea of meaningless words and memories Jongdae doesn’t have anymore, and he and Kyungsoo are the wave breakers, stopping the water from wrecking the shore.

Kyungsoo is sleepily browsing through the third box, occasionally checking some papers out then putting them back. One of the folders piques his interest and he looks at its contents with his eyes wide.

“Oh fuck, Dae, you have to see this,” Kyungsoo says looking completely awake. Jongdae takes a big step to avoid stepping on any of the papers. 

"Don't curse in front of my child," he says pointing at sleeping Tan. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and hands him the documents.

In the folder, Jongdae sees a picture of himself, he’s much younger, smiling and looking extremely proud of himself. He's also wearing a police uniform and next to him is standing about as smiley agent Junmyeon.

Jongdae stares into the picture until it stops looking real and the colors blur together. 

👁️👁️👁️

"You can do it," Minseok tells him, attempting to pep-talk him into leaving the car. Jongdae likes to think of himself as someone who can stand up for himself, who won’t endure bullshit. This description may be appropriate on most days, but on most days you don’t find out that you’ve forgotten a good portion of what happened in your twenties and you don’t know who you are anymore. And he thought his occasional anxiety was bad.

Right now, Jongdae’s a nervous wreck sitting in Minseok’s car, looking at what his documents identify as his previous place of employment. The building’s big and made entirely out of polished concrete with almost no windows. It looks like a house made by a child in one of The Sims games, everything is slightly out of proportion, be it too big or too small, slightly out of place. Everything about the building is unsettling.

It looms over him, makes him feel small, like whatever answers he wants to get there are insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

“We should go back,” says Jongdae, looking at one of the rare windows, he’s sure someone’s observing them through it. “This was a bad idea, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re going in and I’m going with you,” Minseok says sounding determined. He takes Jongdae’s hand and squeezes it slightly, it’s warm, Jongdae feels the warmth radiate through his body. “Okay?”

Jongdae nods somewhat reassured, he doesn’t have to go there alone. They get out of the car and Jongdae makes sure not to look into that one window, because if he does, he’s not sure he could convince himself about stepping into that building.

The doors are tall and made out of darkened glass that doesn’t let him see the interior. Jongdae stares at his reflection, he really does look as terrified as he thought. Maybe they'll take some pity on him if he bursts into tears, yeah, that sounds like a plan. He feels his phone vibrate. 

It's an unknown number. 

"Hello?" Jongdae hears. It takes a second for him to recognize Sehun's voice. "You told me to check up on you, so—uhm—I'm doing exactly that? Is everything alright, Jongdae?" the agent asks.

"If I'm correct, you'll soon find out," he says and pushes the door. Minseok uses this opportunity to take his hand again. 

👁️👁️👁️

The inside of the building looks like a normal waiting room in an office, be it IRS or DMV there's always a machine that assigns you your number in line, those god awful benches, and the seemingly endless amount of counters. Jongdae pushes a button and gets his number, he doesn't know where he should sit down, which screen he should be looking at. He looks hopelessly at Minseok. 

"Just pretend to be an idiot who doesn't know how a queue works." Minseok points at a screen with the number 99 flashing on it. Jongdae takes a chance and practically sprints to sit on the chair before the counter. The official before him doesn't look especially impressed. 

"Sir, you cut the line," he says, his eyes not even looking up at Jongdae.

"I have something very important to settle here. The others can wait."

"Don't we all?" the official sighs, still not looking at Jongdae. "Right, so what planetary system are you from, sir?"

Jongdae does a double-take. He realizes the man sitting before him doesn't look as human as he first assumed. There's a purple hue to his skin and—are those scales?

"Milky Way."

"And the planet of your origin? Mars or Terra?"

"Terra." Jongdae has stopped questioning anything at this point. He feels Minseok put a hand on his shoulder, the touch reassuring him in a way. He's not here alone.

"Right, and do you have any ID with you? Anything will do,” the man—alien—says while loudly typing on his keyboard. Jongdae pulls out of his coat’s pocket his most prized possession at the moment—something he can only describe as a secret agent ID. There’s only his picture, no name, no birthdate, and a string of random numbers Jongdae can’t decipher. The official nods, looking somewhat pleased with what Jongdae has shown him. He types the numbers into his computer.

The machine beeps loudly, the sound piercing through Jongdae’s head. 

“Yixing! Come here! Something’s wrong with the system!” he shouts and a different man appears from another cubicle.

Jongdae’s stomach flips and he feels like he’s sinking into his chair. Of course, something’s wrong, why did he even come here? This was a mistake, everything was a mistake, leaving bed today was a mistake. 

“You’re trying to enter former agent’s ID number into the system, of course, it’s not going to work, Sicheng,” the aforementioned Yixing says to the younger man. His eyes are completely black like they’re all an overblown pupil, but besides that, Yixing’s looking very human. 

With every second spent here, Jongdae grows more and more confident that he’s stepped into an alternate dimension when he opened that glass door. He turns his head to look at Minseok standing behind him. He hasn’t noticed it before, but Minseok’s wearing a very familiar-looking choker, Jongdae can’t place it right now, but he has seen the charm hanging from it somewhere before.

“Hello Jongdae, I know you don’t remember me, but I’m glad you’re well.” Yixing smiles at him. “Good thing you brought your friend with you. I’ll need to talk with him too. But first, I’ll walk you to Junmyeon, he’s the person who has some explaining to do.” He walks out of his cubicle and approaches Jongdae. 

Yixing shakes his hand firmly and tells Jongdae to follow him. “Please stay here, my coworker needs to ask you a few questions about your stay on Earth. It won’t take long, I promise,” he tells Minseok before he can follow them and disappear from Sicheng’s view. 

Minseok doesn’t look too happy about that but he doesn’t say anything, instead, he smiles at Jongdae and nods as to rush him. 

Jongdae follows Yixing through a long, overlit hallway. The floor is lined with faded-green, coarse carpeting, the walls are grey and there seems to be a never-ending number of doors lined up on both sides. He can’t tell how long they keep walking through that hallway, the time seems to not matter in this place. Jongdae wants to turn around and run away, but he suspects that if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to leave this place.

If he ran away from Yixing this corridor would actually never end and he would stay here forever. Which is why he doesn’t do that, he follows Yixing until the man stops before one of the doors and fishes out the keys from his pocket to open them.

Just as promised, Junmyeon’s sitting inside the office, his eyes focused on the computer monitor before him. Jongdae notices they are no longer on the ground floor. No, from what he can see from the window in front of him they are quite high from the ground. Jongdae can’t understand how it happened, he doesn’t remember walking up the stairs or using the elevator.

“Junmyeon,” Yixing says to pique the man’s attention. “Junmyeon, you need to talk with someone.” Yixing seems to be staring daggers at him.

The agent looks up and his eyes widen. He stands up from his high, office chair and walks up to a shelf filled with various hefty binders in all the colors of the rainbow. He pulls one numbered 21 and with letters KJD.

"Special agent Kim, I own you an explanation," he says putting the binder on his desk before Jongdae.

He can't bring himself to respond differently than, "No shit."

👁️👁️👁️

Yixing leaves them alone to discuss—well what even is there to discuss? Jongdae doesn’t know what to ask, he doesn’t know shit and Junmyeon is not exactly helping him with his silence.

“So, I had worked for the government before ending up in an ice cream parlor with no memory of said previous employment, is that it? Have you used some memory wiping laser on me or something?” asks Jongdae. It was not his intention to sound so accusatory, but his patience is running low today, blame it on not getting enough sleep or learning that his life is a lie, either one works.

Junmyeon doesn’t say anything.

“No way.”

“It was your request, I couldn’t deny you.”

“Why?”

“You were—are—my friend and my colleague, I just couldn’t,” Junmyeon says and he looks on the floor. Jongdae feels like they’re having two completely different conversations, a one where Junmyeon is battling with the guilt, and a second where Jongdae is fighting to obtain any information at all. It’s like trying to reason with a child that knows he did something wrong and is already crying about it, but he won’t tell you what so you can try to fix it, forgive him.

“Junmyeon, I think I need to remind you that I don’t remember anything. Nothing, my brain is blank like a formatted hard drive. I’m a bitter adult with the memories of a teenager, please, help me understand why I have become so disillusioned—why I can’t believe in anything,” Jongdae says and feels scared by his honesty. _He_ doesn’t know Junmyeon, _he_ can’t imagine being so open with another person, but something in him does, some part of him still longs for this intimacy. 

Junmyeon doesn’t say anything in response, instead, he hands him the binder. “I think you need to learn that on your own, Dae. It was your decision, after all, that lead you here, I was only the messenger. I’m sorry I wasn’t very helpful.” He leaves his desk and starts walking towards the door.

“Stay.” Jongdae touches his forearm and squeezes his hand around it, his fingers digging into the expensive suit. “Please, don’t leave me alone now.”

Junmyeon smiles faintly at him but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Alright.”

In the span of the following hour, Jongdae learns everything about his former career choice, from how many times he’s been injured: three times, to how many times he was hungover after an annual Christmas party: once. He also learns that, shocker, there are aliens on Earth, or Terra as they like to call it. Jongdae isn’t surprised by that, he always thought the Fermi paradox was bullshit and government propaganda to stop people from talking. But even all of this information still doesn’t answer his most nagging question.

“Why did I want to wipe my memory?” Jongdae asks looking at another picture of him holding a cute alien baby, this one is violently purple and has four arms, adorable. If there’s a kindergarten for only alien babies, he needs their number now because it seems like an excellent career.

Junmyeon sighs. “I was afraid you were going to ask that.”

“This is literally the reason I even set foot in this creepy-ass building. Junmyeon, this question was coming from the start!”

“What’s so creepy about it though?” Junmyeon attempts to change the subject.

“All brutalist abominations look like they were taken out from _1984_ and placed in our world without context,” Jongdae says and realizes he’s fallen for Junmyeon’s trick. He'd stop talking but his opinions on architectural styles are too important to shut up about them. “There’s always either too many or not enough windows! And don’t get me started on the use of concrete, Christ, everything is so grey in this city.”

There's a beat of silence on Junmyeon's part that's quickly followed by a smile. “You somehow haven’t changed,” he says but there isn’t an opportunity for him to finish his thought, because Sehun barges in through the office door.

“You cryptic little shit, I was worried about you. ‘If I’m correct, you’ll soon find out’, what was that about?” Sehun asks Jongdae while ignoring laughing Junmyeon.

“Now I know I was your supervisor, you can’t talk to me like that!” Jongdae says. “And see, you found out." He shrugs.

"Yeah, Yixing had to tell me. Well, I'm sorry for not telling you about this myself, thanks to me you probably had a pretty fun existential crisis," Sehun says and Junmyeon abruptly stops laughing.

"You contacted him before he came to us by himself? Sehun this is a breach of contract, you can't just—"

"Says the person who 'accidentally' visited the parlor he works at." Sehun rolls his eyes at Junmyeon. Jongdae finds it funny how the way they're dressed, expensive suits, silk shirts, and matching ties, doesn't at all reflect their attitude of an inexperienced teenage couple.

"You guys worried about me, that's cute." Jongdae smiles despite himself. “Now can you please explain why I wanted to—consensually—wipe my memory clean?”

Sehun and Junmyeon knowingly look at each other. 

“You may want to read this then,” Junmyeon opens the binder on one of the last pages.

Jongdae looks at the pictures featured in the report and feels like he’s spinning, like the world around him is moving too fast. He sees crumbled buildings, blood-red sky, and ash, there’s so much ash, Jongdae can’t tell whether it’s rubble or something else. His heart is racing and he feels like he’s going to throw up just from looking at those photographs. He closes the binder with a bang, making the glass standing on the table in front of him wobble. 

Jongdae wants to collapse in on himself like the world he saw in those photos. Junmyeon puts a hand on his shoulder, probably to reassure him, but Jongdae's so out of it he wants to throw it off. 

"What happened?" he asks after drinking a glass of water brought to him by, probably, Sehun. He has trouble paying attention to his surroundings.

"We had to come to grips with a threat we haven't seen before. Something you can basically call an apocalypse from our point of view," Junmyeon begins, he looks tired like the mere mention of the event makes him age faster. “With help from other interplanetary organizations, we managed to minimalize the casualties and reverse most of the damage. But the help came with a price, Jongdae, the world wouldn’t be able to function as it did before the event—”

“So you hid all the evidence. You overwrote the hard drive,” Jongdae cuts in, realizing what had happened.

“Essentially yes,” says Junmyeon, his face adorned with guilt like he’s a figure on a classical painting, his expression almost theatrical. “Most people on Earth don’t know—remember—what happened and why the world is the way it is right now. You had chosen to forget with them and I couldn’t stop you, I’m so sorry Jongdae. I’m so sorry I can’t tell you anything else.”

Jongdae wants to scream, to demand an explanation but he can’t bring himself to do that to Junmyeon, it’s not his fault, it’s no one’s fault. He wants to forget this conversation, to go back to those moments when he didn’t have a clue, but it would be pointless, wouldn’t it? After all, he’d probably come back here with his tail between his legs, asking for answers, just like did today. He craves the truth even if it hurts him.

Jongdae takes the binder with him and walks out of the office, the bright corridor seems to be much shorter this time, he’s not afraid he won’t be able to leave the building. He grabs Minseok’s hand when he passes by him, not caring whether he still has something to do here. He certainly doesn't.

👁️👁️👁️

It turns out that finding out the apocalypse got canceled a few months ago isn’t an appropriate excuse to take a sick day. Jongdae expected a little more compassion from Minseok. But that's his life now, he knows that something happened even if he doesn't know the details. He doesn't want to know them, he had chosen to forget and it was probably the best option.

Jongdae probably wouldn't be able to live with that knowledge like Sehun and Junmyeon do, wouldn't be able to bear the guilt. He took the binder with him to work. It's laying on the counter before him and Jongdae wants to throw it across the room or at the TV playing The X-Files reruns. He got the graveyard shift today, no one would notice. 

"Why do you look like you're planning a murder?" Minseok emerges from his office to pour himself another cup of coffee.

"More like setting up a pyre," Jongdae says cryptically and Minseok just raises his eyebrows at him. "Do you have matches on you? Some lighter fluid too?"

Minseok chuckles. "Listen, I know you wanted a sick day but that's not a good reason to light this place on fire. Leave that for when they lay you off."

Jongdae actually laughs out loud. "Don't worry, I just have to get rid of parts of my past." He points at the binder.

"Bad memories?"

"You could say that."

They mostly sit by one of the tables, talk, and watch The X-Files and Friends on the old TV until it’s time to close the parlor. Jongdae likes those quiet evenings with Minseok, he makes him calm despite everything. Even when he wants to drop everything and run away, kind of like yesterday. Jongdae can’t express how thankful he’s to Minseok.

“I’ll repeat my question from earlier, do you have matches and some lighter fluid?” Jongdae asks Minseok after closing the door and turning the lock.

“I probably have some at my place, why?”

“I need to burn some documents from my binder.”

Minseok nods and leads Jongdae to his car. As it turns out he really lives nearby, and by that, he meant on the same housing estate as Jongdae, literally in the next building.

“If you ever need a glass of sugar, you know where to go,” Minseok chuckles. “I’m gonna grab the murder weapons and I’m right back,” he says and Jongdae wants to groan at the joke.

Minseok comes back with a box of matches and a bottle of off-brand lighter fluid. “Do you think we can just burn it here?” he asks. "Aren't you worried about cops showing up?"

“The old ladies have my back, don’t worry. Right, Ms. Byun!?” Jongdae shouts in the direction of one of the balconies occupied by the elderly living in the apartment complex.

“Of course sweetie! I’ll have your back if some bastard snitches on you! ACAB!” echoes through the estate.

“She doesn’t mean ‘All cats are beautiful’,” Jongdae says and watches Minseok’s face light up in amusement.

“They accepted you as one of their own! You became an honorary old lady, how does one even do that?” Minseok loses it, his laugh echoed by the concrete walls.

“I think I helped one of them with her TV? And ever since they’ve been nice to me.” Jongdae shrugs and takes the offending pages out of the binder, he drops them on the pavement and pours the fluid on them. He doesn’t want to see them. “The honor is yours.” He gestures at the matches Minseok’s still holding.

Minseok’s whole face brightens and a grin creeps upon his lips. Jongdae’s sure everyone has a bit of pyromaniac inside them. They take a few steps back, Minseok throws the match and they watch the papers ignite, the fire illuminating their faces and surroundings, the grey smoke flying up to the dark, winter sky. 

Jongdae was scared he’d regret this, that this wasn’t what he truly wanted, but he’s literally burning a part of his past and it feels fucking amazing to watch it disappear before his eyes. He’s freeing himself from the burden and the responsibility, but he can probably always come back, he’s sure Junmyeon would let him rejoin the organization. But that’s not what he wants right now.

“We should’ve brought marshmallows,” says Minseok, his gaze transfixed on the flames.

Jongdae can’t disagree.

👁️👁️👁️

After they put out the fire, Jongdae ends up sitting in Minseok's kitchen, drinking strong and really sweet tea and listening to another man's best, hot takes on One Piece. Jongdae hasn't read or watched it since his anime phase ended sometime in high school, but he's happy to listen to Minseok talk about something he's passionate about. He nods and occasionally laughs when Minseok tells a joke, it’s a really pleasant evening, especially when you take into account their little “bonfire”.

Jongdae realizes something while absentmindedly looking at Minseok (he’s too pretty, Jongdae can’t help himself even if he tries).

“Your choker—my cat, Cos, he has a similar collar,” Jongdae says, reaching across the table and taking the piece of jewelry in his hand. Minseok doesn’t dare to move. “Not even similar, it’s identical,” Jongdae notices. Minseok looks away from him. Jongdae realizes something crucial. “Minseok, please, tell me, why did that official want to question you about?"

Minseok looks like he wants to turn around and walk out of his own apartment. “There was a problem with my papers? My driver’s license?” he says it like he doesn’t believe what he’s saying himself.

“Minseok, MIB is a government organization that deals exclusively with aliens, why the fuck would they know there’s something wrong with your license?”

He avoids looking Jongdae in the eyes. “Okay, fine, I never passed the exam on Earth. But your cars are easy to drive, I can pilot around five different spacecraft types, I learned to drive my Sedan in fifteen minutes!”

“There’s so much to unpack here but I just want to throw away the whole suitcase,” Jongdae mutters into his hands. “One, thank you for never telling me you’re an alien, if you’re wondering I don’t have a problem with that, what I have a problem with is—Two, have you been driving without a license this entire time? Can you even drive a manual?”

“What’s a manual?”

“Oh my god.” Jongdae starts to wonder how is it even possible Minseok is not in jail at this point. He digs through the remains of his scrambled memories, trying to find something there about assimilation programs. “Isn’t there like a government program for new immigrants on Earth? Something to help you guys settle in?”

“Yeah, I kinda ditched it? Except for the pop culture classes?”

Jongdae just takes a sip of tea, he's tired of this conversation. “That’s why you know so much about One Piece.”

“Actually, One Piece is one of Earth’s biggest cultural exports across the nearby galaxies,” Minseok says with a glint in his eyes, that information takes Jongdae by surprise. "Okay, right, I need to show you something."

Jongdae raises his eyebrows at him but Minseok just stands up from his chair and steps into the middle of his small kitchen. It can't take longer than a blink of an eye—because Jongdae literally only blinks once in the meantime—and Minseok's form changes. Now before Jongdae stands an average-sized house cat. He can't even bring himself to be surprised anymore. The cat meows at him and Jongdae realizes something.

"Cos? Sorry, I mean, Minseok?"

Cos, or rather Minseok, meows back at him. Jongdae just sips his tea as his manager transforms back into his human form. 

"I just want to know how, not even why, but that also would be useful."

“My species has developed the technology to—uhm—bend reality? Kinda, it’s hard to explain and I don’t understand it that well myself. So yeah, I can kind of shapeshift?”

“But why a cat?”

“They’re magnificent creatures. Also, I like to just observe the world from their perspective.” 

Jongdae forces himself to not make any comments about Minseok’s somewhat peculiar hobby.

"About that, you’re telling me I've been feeding you, in cat form, for the past month?" Jongdae sighs, the worst thing is, this is not the weirdest thing he's learned this week.

"Yes? Also, Tan's mine, so me and my cat technically."

Jongdae needs to refrain from scoffing. "Oh, no, no, you don't get to call Tan yours, at best she's _our_ cat now. I gave her food and a roof over her fluffy head, let her sleep in my bed, she's also mine. We're looking after a cat together, Minseok." 

Minseok laughs and his smile is so wide, his gums start to show. "Does it mean I'm yours too if you gave me food and let me sleep in your bed?" he asks and Jongdae feels his entire face heat up. Minseok just looks proud of himself. 

“I guess??” All of Jongdae’s thoughts and feelings have been converted to pure confusion. Frankly, he could transform into a walking, talking question mark and it wouldn't make a difference. “I guess that’s what it entails? The question is whether is that what you want?” He can play the hard question game too.

This time it’s Minseok’s time to get embarrassed. “I—I wouldn’t mind it, that’s for sure? Do _you_ want it?” he reflects the question onto Jongdae yet again.

“Yes?”

“So we’re dating or?”

“I guess?” Jongdae says even though this is the first thing he’s been sure since a minute ago. He looks into Minseok's eyes and smiles at him, he reciprocates. 

👁️👁️👁️

“I’m not putting you into my bag,” Jongdae hisses at Minseok who’s already getting ready to change into a cat to avoid paying for the ticket to the planetarium, or at least that’s what he says at first.

It’s their actual, first date and Jongdae is baffled why Minseok said something like this. Maybe he didn’t like Jongdae’s jokey idea to visit the planetarium, but in that instance, he could’ve just said something instead of trying to annoy him.

“But I’m not that big, you would be able to hide me, please. We’re gay _and_ we’re doing crimes?” Jongdae rolls his eyes at him. Minseok sighs. “If you look to your left, you’ll see Junmyeon and one other agent, I think. Or his date, honestly, I don’t know how are you able to recognize them.”

And just as he says, to their left stands casually dressed Junmyeon. The other man is definitely an agent, he doesn’t blend in as well as he thinks he does. He’s pretending to look at the exhibition, but Jongdae can see that he’s fiddling with his earpiece and that the cables are bunched up on his back. It’s a miracle Junmyeon hasn’t scolded him yet or sent him to the bathroom to get his shit together. Jongdae wouldn’t be so permissive.

“Sorry,” he says and squeezes Minseok’s hand for a few seconds. “I didn’t notice them.”

“I should have told you upfront. But I didn’t want you to worry, I know they stress you out.”

“Yeah, government agents following you around tend to do that,” Jongdae chuckles and drags Minseok to the men’s restroom. Before he can even open his bag, Minseok’s already in cat form.

“It still kind of weirds me out, the whole—you know, shape-shifting thing.”

Minseok meows at him.

“No, it’s not your fault. I think—It’s just like you said? That you’re essentially bending reality to your will. I think my little human brain just knows that’s something’s wrong and doesn’t know how to react,” Jongdae says and scratches Minseok behind his ear. He starts purring obscenely loud. “Suck-up,” he says and puts him into his bag. “Hang in there, don’t move too much, I’ll let you out once the lights go out.”

Jongdae didn’t ask Minseok why he wanted to sneak into the planetarium, it’s pretty obvious he wanted to eavesdrop on Junmyeon and the other agent. Probably nothing is going to come out of it, but it’s better to try than to sit around and then complain. Jongdae wants to trust Junmyeon, he really does, but the agent seems strangely on edge like he’s anticipating something bad to happen. He wonders where’s Sehun, is he also on a mission, following someone else? Is the whole bureau preparing for an emergency?

Jongdae chooses a seat next to the wall and opens his bag to let Minseok out, but even before the lights turn off, the second agent chooses a seat next to him.

“Hello, Jongin,” Jongdae recalls his name. “What has brought you here?” He doesn’t manage to contain his laughter when he sees the look on Jongin’s face.

“How do you know my name?”

“Sometimes I just remember random stuff.” Jongdae shrugs. “Also your cords are all bunched up on your back, for such a fashionable guy I’d have thought you'd put more care into your appearance when you’re on duty,” Jongdae snickers. “You should pay more attention.”

“Sorry, it’s been rough for a couple of days, weeks—no, months. Yeah, these past few months have been rough,” Jongin sighs.

“Don’t talk about anything confidential,” scolds him Junmyeon who’s just emerged from an unknown place. Jongdae wonders whether he can teleport, honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised by that.

“I know, that’s your job.” Jongin rolls his eyes and the older agent just outright gasps at the disrespect.

“Please pass along to Sehun that he’s dead since apparently you tell each other everything. Do you know my dick size too?" 

Jongdae blinks in surprise. “Should I leave? I think you guys need to discuss some things on your own.” He tries to leave his seat but both of the agents stop him in his place.

“What’s in your bag?” asks Junmyeon.

There’s no way he can explain this to them without sounding suspicious, so he just opens the bag and lets Minseok out, who upon seeing the agents immediately transforms.

“Hello there.” He smiles brilliantly at Junmyeon and Jongin. They don't look impressed. 

“Did you just transform in a crowded room, sir?” asks exhausted Junmyeon. “That’s illegal.”

“I made sure they wouldn't notice,” Minseok assures him.

The agent rubs his temples. “You’re lucky I have more important things to worry about because otherwise, you’d be on your way to the bureau. Also, why are you here?”

Minseok looks at Jongdae like he’s asking permission to answer, Jongdae nods and smiles at him. “We’re on a date,” he says. 

Both Junmyeon and Jongin make faces like they’ve just discovered that it wasn’t a “G” in Disney’s logo all that time. “Oh—That explains so much!” says the younger agent. “Junmyeon, we’re leaving them alone, _now_.”

Junmyeon clearly wants to protest but he shuts up and does what he’s told. When he’s leaving his seat, he takes Jongdae’s hand and drags him outside with them. Jongdae shivers without his jacket.

“You can’t let—his name’s Minseok, right?” Jongdae nods. “You can’t let Minseok be found out in public. Otherwise, we’re all going to pay the consequences, you, me, Sehun, everyone who’s helped you out. You can’t keep acting so irresponsibly.”

Jongdae wants to laugh, he can almost taste the bitter taste of humiliation on his tongue. He takes a deep breath. “I’m not under your supervision anymore, you can’t keep ordering me around.”

“I’m not saying this as your former superior, I’m saying it as your friend, as someone who cares about people close to him.” Jongdae can hear that Junmyeon’s holding back the venom, that he’s trying his best to speak concisely so that he won’t incite a fight.

Jongdae can’t understand why he’s reacting this way to Junmyeon’s words, especially since he knows the other man meant no harm. But Jongdae’s so angry with him, so hurt by something and he can’t explain by what. It’s pointless to look for a logical explanation. Jongdae won’t find it, no matter how hard he tries, he won’t bring his memory back. He counts to ten under his breath and decides whatever’s the reason, it’s not worth it. Nothing’s worth hurting his friend.

Maybe it’s time to let go, to forgive any wrongs he had experienced before, they don’t matter and are not worth chasing after. Junmyeon’s right, he too should focus on people close to him. 

“No, you’re right. That was irresponsible, but I let him do it because even he noticed you both in the crowd. You are, to be extremely blunt—getting sloppy. People will notice you, they probably already do,” Jongdae says, reassuringly squeezing Junmyeon’s hand and takes a step in the direction of the building.

“Something’s happening, Jongdae.” Junmyeon grips his wrist before Jongdae can go back to the planetarium. 

“Please, just don’t tell me it’s the plants’ fault. That movie was bad.” Junmyeon doesn’t seem amused by Jongdae’s brilliant commentary on M. Night Shyamalan’s 2008 movie "The Happening". Jongdae might be especially salty about that bad plot twist because it's the last movie he remembers watching before they wiped his memory clean.

"Dae, please, be careful. Promise me to be careful,” says Junmyeon. He looks exhausted and Jongdae wishes he could help, but he doesn’t know what he could do. 

“I promise, Jun.” Jongdae somehow knows he won’t be able to keep his word.

👁️👁️👁️

“Isn’t this against the company policy?” Minseok asks, eyeing the spoonful of chocolate ice cream like its mere existence is morally reprehensible.

“There was nothing about it in the contract.” Jongdae, on the other hand, shoves as much of it as he can fit in his mouth. Even the brain-freeze is worth it. “Besides, I’d feel bad if we threw it out,” he says cringing through the pain and massaging the bridge of his nose.

They’ve already closed the parlor, but there weren’t many sales today and even though it was expected, The Void’s staff has found themselves with an additional liter or two of ice cream. Jongdae’s determined to eat as much as he can right now because the freezer he has at home is small, also, he can’t remember whether there’s enough space in it.

“When I was a broke college student, naturally, all my friends were also broke, we judged our part-time jobs by whether they let us take the food that would’ve been written off as expenses. You know, the bread that didn’t sell or two-day-old pastries, stuff like that. If they didn’t let us do that, we usually sneaked out with the food anyway,” he reminisces. 

Minseok chuckles. “Is this a threat?”

“Yeah, watch out or I’ll steal your fancy coffee,” Jongdae deadpans and Minseok outright gasps. “Kidding, it’s just something I remembered. A rare memory." 

"My coffee is sacred. But if you want some, you can ask,” Minseok clarifies.

It makes Jongdae feel warm on the inside. “Thank you,” he says in between spoons, “I’m not the biggest fan? But if you make a cup for me, let’s say I won’t mind.” He smiles at Minseok. 

"When I first arrived here, I wasn't either? You humans like everything to taste bitter in comparison to us. But the whole ritual around making, or even buying, coffee, it's fascinating. It's such a personal thing? I can't help but be amazed by it every day." 

Jongdae doesn't have anything to contribute so he just shoves another spoonful into his mouth, this time it's strawberry flavored.

"Maybe it's because I've been so isolated all my life, I don't know, I find the most boring things fascinating."

"Nah, humans are weird. We just, like, live next to volcanoes and when they destroy our settlements we just build them again in the same spot." That makes Minseok chuckle so Jongdae simply continues to ramble. "It's counterproductive but hey, at least the hot springs are a tourist attraction. It's the same with food? So much shit on this planet is inedible or outright poisonous, but someone somewhere managed to figure out that one way to make it tasty. You know how many people had died before we found out how to make cow’s milk less deadly? And most of the planet's population is lactose intolerant!" Jongdae looks at the ice cream with newfound affection. It's starting to melt.

"There's something on your nose." Minseok moves closer to him, cupping his jaw to steady Jongdae's face, the look in his eyes playful. He takes a tissue and wipes the offending drop of melted ice cream from Jongdae's nose. 

Jongdae can't help himself, he looks into Minseok's eyes and kisses him, just a quick peck on the lips, nothing more. And yet, it feels so right, like it was exactly what he was meant to do. 

Minseok's lips are sticky from the ice cream, they taste sweet, so sweet that when he draws Jongdae back, he can't get enough. 

"I feel so lost on this planet sometimes," Minseok confesses when they're already in his car. "Lonely too. There's something melancholic about this place and I don't know how to describe it. It's like stepping into a battlefield, you just know that something bad happened here."

"I think it's our new feature," Jongdae chuckles bitterly. "With the whole _canceled apocalypse_ and all that." 

Minseok shrugs. "Probably, I'm just scared I'll never feel at home here," he says not taking his eyes off the road. "Sorry for being such a downer, I've been thinking about this for some time." 

Jongdae doesn't say anything because he's just realized that he too hasn't felt at home here, maybe until this moment. Minseok feels like home for him. These evening drives do.

"No, I understand, I don't think I have either." _Until now._

👁️👁️👁️

"Two bros chillin' in a bathtub less than 5 inches apart because the tub is small, and they are at least a bit gay."

"Excuse you, I'm very gay," Jongdae says and takes a sip of his red wine.

They both wanted to be nice and bought a bottle each, except Jongdae brought a red and dry one, and Minseok’s white and sweet. Jongdae hates sweet wine and Minseok winced when he tried the red so they’re just drinking the ones they bought. 

Jongdae can't recall how they ended up in Minseok's bathtub drinking wine, but they somehow did, it's so relaxing he practically can see his shoulder tension leaving. The bathroom is fogged up, Jongdae can see drops of water racing down the tiles and he can't stop looking at Minseok's flushed face, especially at the choker around his neck. 

"Can I?" he asks and Minseok nods.

Jongdae leans to take the necklace in his hand. He's seen the charm before but he's never noticed the artistry it was made with. The galaxy inside is detailed and vivid, Jongdae swears he can distinguish the individual stars. He looks up at Minseok and it’s like he can see them mirrored in his eyes.

“Where are you from, Minseok?” Jongdae asks, feeling so small thinking about the possibilities. They’re just two people, living and breathing despite all the hardships they had to go through in their lives, they’re so small and insignificant when compared to the grand scheme of the universe. And this moment too won’t be remembered by anyone besides them, it will be lost when either one of them takes their last breath.

“It’s the LMC galaxy, right?” Jongdae keeps talking despite his instinct telling him to shut up. “Right next to Milky Way? I used to have this map right above my bed with stars and galaxies printed on it, it was fluorescent too. Every night before bed I kept staring at it, imagining that maybe one day I’ll meet someone that used to look a similar map but from a different corner of the cosmos. I never imagined I’d end up in a bathtub with them,” he chuckles and sees Minseok’s eyes brighten a little. 

“And vice-versa,” Minseok says, bringing Jongdae closer to kiss him.

He tastes like sweet wine, Jongdae doesn’t mind. 

They sit in the tub for a little longer and watch Tan almost fall into the water at least two respective times. The cat pretends nothing happened. Jongdae finishes his bottle of wine and by the end, he's really clingy and giggly and he keeps kissing Minseok even if he gets in the way.

"Please, just let me dry you with a towel," Minseok says but he's almost as drunk as Jongdae so it comes out a bit slurred, the syllables clumsy on his tongue. Jongdae cooperates and helps Minseok put on his pajamas even if it’s really unproductive in the end since once they’re out of the bathroom and laying on Minseok’s bed, Jongdae’s first objective becomes taking them off of him. 

Minseok seems to be really content with that turn of events, he kisses his way down to the band of Jongdae’s boxers, leaving little marks and bites on his way. And then after he gets rid of his underwear, he swallows Jongdae’s already half-hard cock all at once. Jongdae muffles his moans and squirms on the bed, and fists the sheets, only to come embarrassingly quickly thanks to Minseok’s skilled mouth. 

He brings Minseok to his level to kiss him and taste himself on his tongue. Minseok breaks the kiss and smiles at him with so much worship in his eyes, Jongdae feels like the most precious thing in this corner of the galaxy.

👁️👁️👁️

Jongdae can't fall asleep, not that's anything new, he can't remember the last time the sleep came to him voluntary over the course of the past few months. That's the new normal for him. At least it's pleasant to lay in a warm bed next to his boyfriend. 

He kicks off his comforter, leaves the bed as quietly as he can and opens the balcony door. It's a warm night for winter, he isn't even especially cold in his thin hoodie. Jongdae takes a moment to look at the sky, appreciate the stars. 

But there's something there that makes his blood run cold and stomach flip, it only appears for a second, the longest heartbeat in Jongdae's life.

There was a crack in the sky, illuminated like a streak of lightning, over Orion's belt. Jongdae's sure he had seen it, but it's not there anymore. It's not there and it's making him panic. He looks at the sky until it feels like the stars have made a home for themselves under his eyelids because even when he closes his eyes, all he sees is the belt. 

Jongdae hears the balcony door open and he sees a very sleepy Minseok accompanied by, also very sleepy, Tan by his feet, he’s carrying two cups of steaming tea with him. 

“You didn’t have to.”

He shakes his head. “But I wanted.”

Jongdae takes the cup despite it burning his hands, he's too preoccupied with his thoughts to care.

"Minseok, why did you come to Earth? I can understand why you stayed in this town, it seems like one of the bigger MiB offices is situated here, so it makes sense. But why this planet? Why haven’t you told me yet?" he asks the questions that have been on his mind for hours, the ones that won't let him sleep. 

Jongdae trusts his boyfriend, he really does. Minseok's one of the few people he doesn't feel scared of talking to about what he really thinks. He's like an anchor keeping him by the shore. Which is why it hurts that Minseok just doesn't tell him anything or tells it really fucking late.

“I think I’m just an unnaturally private person—it’s a bad habit.”

"You know, your problem might be that you _know_ you have a problem and you openly admit it, but then don't do anything about it. Maybe you should admit that too?" Jongdae snickers, that’s not the answer he had expected.

Minseok blinks at him in surprise. "I guess? I don't really know what to say to you. You threw a fucking curveball at me and I don't have a glove to catch it," he says but he doesn't sound accusatory or angry, only confused.

"Then let it go." Jongdae shrugs. "I think that's an appropriate thing to say, I don't know—I ran out of inspirational phrases I tell myself to feel better." 

“You said one thing?”

“Well, I don’t know more. I’m not a self-help book, frankly, I _need_ a self-help book probably.”

Minseok chuckles. “You’re a demanding target audience, I don’t think there’s a self-help book written for former FBI agents who are dealing with the loss of identity.”

 _And impending apocalypse,_ Jongdae adds in his mind. 

He shrugs, not knowing how to respond to that. Minseok's right, Jongdae's a fairly difficult man to please.

"A lot of the time I just don't know how to react—what to tell you to make you feel better," Minseok adds. "I just want you to get through this, even if there are bumps on your way there." 

Jongdae embraces him, putting his head on Minseok's shoulder even though he's a few centimeters shorter. His breath hitches as he inhales the faint smell of Minseok’s cologne that’s still left on his skin. He’s okay, he’s fine

"Tell me, why did you end up on Earth? You, for the most part, know why I am the way I am—I want to understand you better."

Minseok chuckles. "Ah, yes, the time has come, you've finally unlocked my tragic backstory."

"Is it really tragic?"

"It's kinda dumb and not really worth mentioning? But I get why you're curious, it's the same reason why I still want to have a look at your binder." He parts away from Jongdae, finally taking a sip of his tea. Jongdae bets it's already cold. "Earth is like the universe's Switzerland, right?"

"Do we have space nazi gold too?"

"I think you just have regular nazi gold, I mean—the Swiss do at least. What I mean by this is that Earth is a neutral zone, free from all interplanetary conflict." 

Jongdae nods. "Are you a space criminal?"

"I'm kinda the opposite?" Jongdae raises his eyebrows at that but doesn't dare cut in. "Do you remember that offhand joke you made about us being _Goth Kids Protection Squad_?"

Jongdae does a double-take, he says a lot of bullshit on a daily basis, it's impossible to remember it all. Do people really listen to him? That's a terrifying realization. "No? But that sounds like something I'd say. What about it?"

"You weren't that far off, Dae." Minseok squeezes his hand. "I'm an Arquillian Royal Police officer, my mission is to protect Kyungsoo—the youngest Arquillian prince."

👁️👁️👁️

“Something isn’t right, my dear,” Ms. Byun tells him the next day, watering the plants in the hallway.

Jongdae can feel it too, the uneasiness seeping through his bones, but he’s been busy ignoring it, convincing himself it’s all in his head. But something’s very wrong and he can’t tell what. 

“Why do you think that?” he asks, his hands traveling to the straps of his backpack, securing it from moving too much like he’s preparing to run like the threat is tangible and it’s possible to escape it. It’s not.

“The plants are dying, Jongdae,” she says pointing her shaking hand at the wilting flowers. “How long has it been winter? I can’t remember the last summer.”

Now that's she's mentioned it, he can’t either. But nothing has felt real for the past few months, not the weather outside, the way the time flows, the way people act and talk, nothing. Jongdae knows why it hasn’t though, it’s MiB’s fault. It’s probably somehow his fault too.

“But I wouldn’t have noticed it if not for my grandson, he pointed it out to me and I can’t unsee it since,” she says and Jongdae can’t help but feel the terror as he realizes what that means. 

The man who preached doom in The Void’s bathroom was right, he was fucking ahead of the game and Jongdae ignored him. Frankly, that’s what any normal person would do, but nothing is normal anymore, something is solemnly broken in this world and he doesn’t know how to fix it. But maybe that man knows, it seems like he’s the only one who noticed and that’s still more than the rest of the population.

“Ms. Byun, could you tell me where your grandson works? I think I need to ask him a few questions.”

It turns out Baekhyun doesn’t work anywhere and he spends most of his days in his apartment. Jongdae can’t really judge, not after everything that happened to him. He rings the doorbell three times but no one answers, so he presses the handle and the doors to the apartment open. In normal circumstances, he would’ve felt bad for barging into someone’s living space like that, but Jongdae thinks his behavior is excused. After all, it doesn’t turn out that the world is ending every day.

Baekhyun’s passed out on his couch, his hair a mess and his sweatpants dirty, Jongdae goes up to him to check his breathing and pulse, but before he even puts his fingers on the man’s neck, he screams, right into Jongdae’s face. The former agent falls backward, right on his ass.

“What the fuck,” Jongdae says in return.

“You sneaked up on me!”

“I rang the doorbell! Three times!” That seems to shut Baekhyun up.

“Sorry,” he rubs his eyes and stretches, “I saw you were coming tomorrow, I’d have taken a shower.”

“What you mean ‘you saw’?” Jongdae doesn’t get up from the floor in fear of what the answer might be.

“Maybe I should start from the beginning. Hello, my name’s Byun Baekhyun and I’m your neighborhood oracle. Nice to meet you Jongdae, I hope Tan’s doing well. Also, you’re watering your aloe vera too much” the man says and smiles at him. Jongdae was right to stay on the floor, this is a bit much for him.

👁️👁️👁️

Looking at Baekhyun makes Jongdae wonder how it's possible to forget about the impending end of the world. After all, it's not something trivial like forgetting to return the book to the library, it dawns on you, preoccupies your senses. And yet he did, everyone did, except for Baekhyun.

The man can't be much older than him, he's probably the same age, but his eyes communicate something different. He looks at Jongdae the same way an old woman selling antique silver cutlery at town's market does, with sadness and weariness of having seen too much. 

“So you really see the future?”

“Future, alternate versions of the present, sometimes past too. You know, clairvoyance.” He shrugs, stands up and opens the balcony door, letting the cold air into the room. Jongdae shivers. “Have a lighter?” Baekhyun pulls out a pack of Marlboros. 

“I don’t smoke.”

Baekhyun nods and goes to the kitchen, he comes back with his cigarette already lit. “Tell me, what do you know about the apocalypse?”

“Nothing much.” Jongdae shifts in his chair. “I burned the documents.”

Baekhyun blows the smoke outside and chuckles. The smoke matches his light hair. “That was my favorite option, very dramatic. It’s not ideal, but it will have to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll need to talk to Junmyeon again, preferably with Minseok—and by that I mean it’s gonna end badly for you two if you don’t take him with you. Don’t leave the headquarters under any circumstance. You’ll need to get there quick too,” he says, smiling at Jongdae but it doesn’t reach his eyes at all and if it were possible it wouldn’t reach his lips either. It’s one of those empty smiles, the one you give your extended family when they piss you off, or when some random person on the street is rude to you, that kind of smile. 

Jongdae doesn’t know what to think of it. Baekhyun is beyond helpful, but at the same time, he doesn’t say much like he’s avoiding something or deliberately trying to deceive Jongdae. And it’s hard to say which is true. He chooses neither of those options, it’s pointless to pick. 

“Baekhyun, tell me, am I in danger? Are my loved ones in any real danger if I just don’t do anything?” he asks, his hands playing with the button on his cuff. “If I sit here with you, talk, maybe even smoke a cigarette, and then go home and spend some really nice, quality time with my boyfriend, is the world in danger? Is anything bad going to happen because of my inaction?”

Baekhyun doesn’t even bother with blowing the smoke out of the window anymore, Jongdae can smell the tobacco, he can feel the smell penetrating his clothes. “If _you_ don’t do anything, someone else will. Maybe Sehun, maybe Junmyeon, it’s hard to tell, there are too many variables, maybe even Minseok. I’m just telling you this information because you came to me on your own, voluntary, you answered the calling of the void without being told to. It takes a lot of courage, Jongdae, to go into the unknown.”

There’s a beat of silence on Jongdae’s part, a moment of weakness almost. “But I’m scared and I shouldn’t be, I don’t think I should,” he says, his eyes focused on the grey sky outside, how long has it been since he saw any color there. How long has it been since the last summer sunset? 

“Everyone’s scared, especially of things they have no control over. Some people just know how to put this worry aside, ignore it, even for a moment. It doesn’t matter how frightened you are, it matters whether you fight with your fear and live on despite it.” He blows the smoke right into Jongdae’s face. It smells disgusting and reminds him of his childhood, he doesn’t want to think about that, it’s not important, not right now.

Jongdae takes the almost burnt cigarette from Baekhyun's hand and stubs it on the asher. "I don't like the smell." He stands up from the chair and starts walking towards the door, as he touches the doorknob he turns around to look at the strange man for the last time.

The oracle smiles at him, this time sincerely. "Good luck."

👁️👁️👁️

Jongdae pulls the hood over his head and the shoes on. He feels like he's sneaking out like he’s a teenager running away. He's sort of doing the opposite.

It's laundry day and this time he hasn’t forgotten about taking the flyers out of his pockets, but maybe he’d have had a much more pleasant evening if he did. Inside his pants, he had found a leaflet made, probably, by Baekhyun. 

_The sky will soon turn crimson again, and black blood will drip from the highest buildings, drowning the world,_ it read. Jongdae tore it up immediately. 

But he can’t stop thinking about it, that’s why he’s going to Minseok, to finally tell him about the mess MIB is hiding from the general public. Well, “going” isn’t the right verb in this situation, he’s running to him, his restlessness getting the best of him. 

He takes his usual route, but this time it seems much longer than normal, like the city itself doesn't want him to reach the parlor. Jongdae's sure he had crossed this street at least twice before but here he is again, going circles around a familiar neighborhood he knows how to navigate. It starts getting absurd.

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, crouches on the cold concrete and screams his heart out in frustration. He needs to calm down, start thinking clearly, there’s nothing to be gained from panicking. Jongdae picks himself up and starts running again, his jacket rustling with every move. 

His temper tantrum seems to have done the trick because he finally can find his way again. When he finally arrives, The Void is already closing, Jongdae taps on the front doors for Kyungsoo, who must have stayed to count up the change, to let him in. Jongdae waves at him through the glass. The teenager lets him in.

"I’m gonna help you with the report, after that, I and Min need to go somewhere, do you want to come with us?” Jongdae asks him. 

“That depends what you mean by this cryptic question?”

“Have you ever been to the local MiB office?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head.

“Do you want to annoy some agents with me?”

He enthusiastically nods like he’s one of those bobbleheads people put in their cars. Jongdae can’t help but chuckle. He sees Minseok exit his office.

“Oh, I didn’t expect you here,” he says smiling at Jongdae. "Especially at this hour?"

“I need to tell you something.”

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s probably really tired, but the expression Minseok fills Jongdae with worry. He knows something bad is happening, he can feel it too. Minseok closes the door behind him when they enter the room.

“Jongdae? I think I know what you want to talk about.” He points at the same, black leaflet Jongdae had torn up earlier today. “The same drunk guy from earlier left it here today.”

He nods the unease pooling into his stomach.

👁️👁️👁️

“I think we should go home,” Jongdae says looking at his reflection in the glass doors to the MiB office building. "We won't get in."

Minseok emerges from behind the bushes. "The back door is also closed."

Ah, yes, the sweet feeling of failure, Jongdae’s favorite. “Well, that would be all then. Sorry I made you come here,” he says dramatically turning around and he sees Kyungsoo looking for something. “Kid, what are you doing?” he asks already anticipating the wildest answer imaginable.

Kyungsoo picks up a particularly large rock from under the bushes, it’s almost bigger than his hand. “Maybe some brute force will solve our problem? Have you considered that?”

“No! Put that down!” Jongdae demands and looks hopefully at Minseok who just shrugs at him instead of offering any immediate help. Technically Kyungsoo is his boss, but that doesn't make Jongdae any less annoyed with him. 

“Property is theft?” Kyungsoo offers meekly but still holds on to the rock.

“That’s not what it means and you know it! Please, don’t vandalize a government facility, even if it’s for a good cause.” Jongdae is ready to give up. God, it was his idea to go here, no wonder it turned out this way, he should’ve stayed home and continued to do laundry. He exhales deeply and looks at Kyungsoo.

“What are you even doing here?” The glass doors open and a dark figure steps out. Jongdae's breath hitches in surprise, it’s a particularly exhausted Junmyeon.

“We’re trying to break in?” Kyungsoo deadpans. Both Jongdae and Minseok chuckle at the agent's expression. Well, they kind of are, it’s not a lie.

Junmyeon stares at the trio like they are a bunch of raccoons going through his trash, he’s only missing a broom to try to shoo them away. “Is it weird that I’m not even surprised?”

“No, I think that’s an appropriate reaction after spending some time with us,” Minseok says something for the first time in minutes. Jongdae can’t help but agree with him. 

Junmyeon takes a deep breath preparing himself for the response but before he can say anything the four of them hear a distant sound of thunder. Jongdae looks up and there in the sky, he can see it again, the illuminated crack he saw a few days before. It’s bigger now, its spider web reaching far beyond Orion’s belt, and it refuses to disappear too. Its color also changes, before it shone like the stars near it with pale blue light, but now the hue is slowly turning crimson red; just like Baekhyun had predicted.

“You can see it too, right?” Jongdae asks, his eyes still focused on the strange phenomenon. But he doesn’t need a reply, he knows they can. 

👁️👁️👁️

Junmyeon lets them into the building.

“You,” he gestures at the two aliens, “Stay here. Jongdae, you’re coming with me.” He leads him through that long corridor again, except the room they’re looking for isn’t as far away as Junmyeon’s office. In fact, it’s one of the first doors.

The inside is pitch-black until Junmyeon flicks the switch near the door, making the table in the center light up. It looks like a miniature version of the war room from Dr. Strangelove, Jongdae doesn’t feel too good about this.

“I need to show you something.” Yeah, he definitely doesn’t.

Junmyeon clicks a few buttons on the touchpad which makes a big, projected holographic map of the city appear right before their eyes. He zooms in on a familiar-looking streetcorner.

“Why are you showing me my place of work?” Jongdae asks, his gaze transfixed on the table.

The agent pushes another button, The Void changes color to red. “This place is where we started noticing the most anomalies. In the beginning, we brushed them off, they tend to happen sometimes. Interplanetary emigrants and refugees bring a lot of weird shit here, you can’t avoid it. But it started spreading like an infection, from one organ to another.”

“What do you mean by this?”

"I don't know why, but the anomalies seem to follow you around, Jongdae." Junmyeon points at the map, the harsh blue light distorting his features. "It's like you're the epicenter like you're the one causing them." 

Jongdae looks at the map and then at Junmyeon again. "I think you're suspecting the wrong person," he says. 

"I don't understand what you mean, Jongdae. It's clearly happening in places where you spend the most time. Look, it's your housing estate—"

"But it's not my apartment. This is Minseok's, he lives on the west side, my apartment faces east."

Junmyeon looks on the floor, trying to put something together. “Don’t tell me you haven’t spend a substantial amount of time there. He’s your boyfriend,” he says sounding accusatory.

“I have, I’m not denying that. My point is, why is there so much more activity in Minseok’s apartment than there is in mine? I’m sure I spend much more time at my place.”

"So what you mean is—"

"Yes, it's Minseok's fault. I think I even know why." 

👁️👁️👁️

Jongdae goes back through the long corridor and leads the confused duo to the _war room._ He doesn’t give them any explanation just tells them to follow him. There’s no point saying the same thing twice when he isn’t even sure his theory, if you can even call it that, is correct. He may have sounded sure of himself when talking to Junmyeon, but he’s as confused as the whole bureau about this situation.

“Take a seat everyone,” Jongdae says like he’s an elementary school teacher ready to begin reading from his PowerPoint presentation, no one’s going to scold him for having a bit of fun. Maybe Junmyeon.

"This is an Arquillian prince." He points at Kyungsoo who doesn't even look up from his phone.

"This is his guard." Minseok waves at them even though he's sitting like five meters away.

Jongdae walks up to him and takes the pendant in his hand. "And this is the source of our problems." Or at least that’s his flimsy hypothesis. 

"I don't understand," says Junmyeon shifting in his seat, Minseok looks like he wants to say the same thing.

Jongdae sighs, rubbing his temples. they don't pay him enough for this, in fact, MiB doesn't pay him at all. That should change. "It can bend reality that's why he can transform."

"How do you know that?"

"He told me!'

"Can confirm, I told him.”

“What does it have to do with, well, everything? Sure, it’s illegal to import alien technology, but don’t tell me one Arquillian with a fancy choker can cause so many problems?” Junmyeon looks at him annoyed.

“Junmyeon, I don’t know how this works,” he points at the pendant, “I don’t fucking know how any of this works. But what I noticed is that the reality itself has been malfunctioning since I met Minseok. I wouldn’t have called The Void if not for the leaflet in my bag I can’t remember taking from anyone, I wouldn’t have confronted you that one day if I didn’t suddenly remember your face. Hell, I’m not a cat person, but the second I saw Tan, I felt the urge to give her a home.”

“This doesn’t have to prove anything.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t. But what else do we have besides gut feelings and vague theories?”

Junmyeon looks at him with the deepest sorrow Jongdae’s ever seen in his life. God, he didn’t mean it that way but as soon as words left his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake. Someone needs to invent a working undo button

“Junmyeon, I’m not an—”

“He’s read it,” Kyungsoo cuts in, looking up at them from his phone. “Minseok’s read your file, Jongdae.”

He can’t even bring himself to feel surprised anymore. Yeah, sure, that makes sense.

Jongdae starts laughing. “God, put two idiots who only want the best for each other in close proximity and watch them bring on the end times. Fucking classic.”

Junmyeon’s expression twists. “I don’t—”

“I’m unintentionally manipulating the world around me to conform to my fears,” Minseok speaks up. “I’m making my catastrophizing into reality.” He takes off the choker, holding it on his hand like it’s an extremely poisonous bug. “And they fucking told me to leave it at home, but no, why would I listen?” he sounds so frustrated with himself.

“What radius does it affect?” Junmyeon asks, clearly trying to put something together.

“It’s military-grade, so like 30 kilometers?” Minseok answers, making Junmyeon look like he’s going to burst in tears from sheer frustration.

“I’m going to murder the whole customs office. How the fuck did they let you bring a fucking reality-shaper onto Earth? They are to be confiscated on sight. Taeyong's so dead.”

“There wasn’t any baggage examination when we arrived on Earth, you guys were too busy fighting off the invasion,” Kyungsoo clarifies.

“In that case, you’re both dead,” Junmyeon points at the two Arquillians, “Taeyong can live. The good thing is that we have a protocol on how to deal with devices like these." 

"Wait, I'm lost," Jongdae says. "Like I know we're talking about the pendant, it's the rest that confuses me." 

"Arquillia has developed technology that allows its users to control the world around them to their liking. The problem is, our planet is in no way compatible with it since we rely so heavily on electricity—something about electro waves? I’m not sure. The point is—it’s like throwing a plugged toaster into a bathtub full of water, you’re going to get shocked no matter what unless you turn off the power. Thankfully it only affects a limited area,” Junmyeon explains and Jongdae pretends he understands what he’s talking about.

“Okay, but what happens after that? I don’t know whether y’all noticed but it’s the end of spring and we’re experiencing winter temperatures, we’re out of sync with the rest of the world. If we turn it off, everything will have to catch up, right?” He looks at the rest of the group.

“Essentially yes,” Junmyeon says. “From what I managed to put together now, Minseok created a bubble around the affected area since we didn’t register any anomalies outside the city. The question is _why_ it happened.” 

Jongdae ponders for a few seconds, he can’t pinpoint why, but he’s bothered by something, and then it hits him. 

_I’m here for you._

_I just want you to get through this._

It’s not only Minseok’s fault, after all, it’s also indirectly his. “Two idiots, who only want the best for each other, right?” Jongdae smiles and takes Minseok’s hand. “Do know why there’s always only chocolate ice cream left at the end of my shift? Because I told you it’s my favorite flavor. Why I always tell you the coffee you make tastes better, even though it’s pre-measured? Because it really does. Why do you never get pulled over by the cops and why we always stop at the red lights so much when you drive me home? And we end up talking for hours on end? Because that’s what you want, Min. Why have I been able to look at the stars every time I can’t sleep? You know it calms me down, and you won’t let something minuscule like the fucking weather stop you from making me happy.”

Minseok’s eyes light up thanks to his newfound understanding of the situation. “I just wanted to make it easy for you, give you time to heal.”

“That’s why it’s still winter.”

“I think so.”

👁️👁️👁️

Junmyeon activates the emergency alert, calling all the on-duty agents into action. Sehun’s one of the first to arrive at the bureau, he looks like he barely had the time to put on his suit. Jongdae’s pretty sure that his tie is tangled because a knot like this _can’t_ exist, right? Sehun measures Minseok up.

“I somehow knew it you’d be you, I felt it in my bones,” he says. “Don’t give me that look, Jongdae. I’m overprotective of you, let me.”

Jongdae groans. “Don’t you have anything else to do? Some forms to fill? Anything at all?”

Sehun blinks in surprise. “Junmyeon didn’t tell you? I’m the one who will be monitoring you during the—uhm—procedure? Is this the right word? Why does it so dirty?” he furrows his brows.

“What are you on about?” Minseok chuckles at his confused expression.

“I’m back from an eighteen-hour shift and I slept two hours. Anything that comes out of my mouth sounds like gibberish to me. Anyway, that’s not important, right, I need to show you where we want to turn this thing off.” He gestures at the pendant.

Jongdae still can’t see it for what it actually is, to him it’s a beautiful piece of jewelry, not a, basically, weapon of mass destruction. Sehun leads them to a white, spacious room with a seethrough plexiglass wall in front of the door. The ceiling is quite high and also made out of glass tiles, Jongdae can see the stars through it. 

The room, as well as the hallway leading to it, is packed full of people dressed in expensive suits and other types of formal clothing, frantically turning on various devices, calibrating them, filling out reports, it’s such a mess. Someone comes up to Minseok and sticks—something—under his shirt. He turns around to Sehun, confused.

“We’ll need to monitor your breathing, we don’t know how long this will take,” he explains.

“Wait, why are you putting this only onto him? Shouldn’t I be involved too?” Jongdae asks, the feeling of guilt unbearable. He feels like he’s going to throw up.

“Only the person who turns off the device will be affected, Dae. I don’t think there’s anything I can do, I—”

“What if we turn it off together at the same time?” Jongdae cuts in, determined to get an answer.

“I guess it might work?” Sehun turns to Minseok, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Dae, no, please let me deal with this on my own, I—”

“No, Minseok, no, I’m also responsible for this mess. I can’t let you deal with the consequences by yourself when it’s also my fault,” Jongdae says, making everyone in the room fall silent. “I can take responsibility for my actions or rather for my lack of action. I knew about the device and I didn’t do anything. I’m not trying to punish myself, I’m trying to talk _you_ out of doing that,” Jongdae states, he’s annoyed beyond belief. “I don’t care that you read my file if it was that important to me, I wouldn’t get rid of it, alright?”

Minseok says nothing in response, his expression unreadable. Jongdae doesn’t have enough patience to deal with this right now.

"I'm sorry," Minseok says after a minute or so of silence.

"It's okay, everything's okay. There's nothing to be upset about." Jongdae takes a deep breath as another agent puts the electrode under his shirt, the wires already starting to tangle on the floor. He needs to calm down, this is not the right time for his theatrics, he can have a meltdown later.

Sehun explains to them how they're going to administer the procedure, that there's nothing to worry about and it's not even the first time something like this happened. Jongdae's sure they have this speech prepared in advance and that really they don't know what might occur if two people turn off the reality-shaper at the same time. But he gives them the benefit of the doubt. What else can he do?

"Does this mean you'll never transform into a cat again?" Jongdae asks trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, I think so."

"That's a shame, you're an adorable kitty. I'll miss it."

Minseok smiles at him. "Me too." 

"What was the point of it anyway?"

"To check up on Kyungsoo. My primary job here is to be his bodyguard. He may be the last in line, but he's going to grow up as an interplanetary diplomat. Earth is the best place to get this kind of education, you know. Him living in the dorm is a cover-up, he's actually getting taught by private tutors. If there's an emergency, it's easier, and less weird, for a cat to enter the building than an adult man," Minseok chuckles. 

He sees Kyungsoo wave at them through the plexiglass and acknowledges the gesture with a smile. Jongdae tightens his embrace around Minseok, they are both holding the pendant, waiting for Sehun to give them the signal. He isn't scared, he's made peace with whatever is awaiting him, but he can hear Minseok's shallow breathing. He's nervous.

Jongdae intertwines their fingers. "Don't worry, nothing bad’s going to happen.”

“Are you sure?”

Jongdae’s not sure of anything, he feels just as lost. “Yeah, we have to hold on, but everything’s going to be alright,” he says even though he can’t know that. But what else has he left besides hope? He sees Sehun start counting from ten. “Get ready, Min.” 

“Ten!” Sehun mouths on the other side of the glass. Minseok turns off the device.

For the first few seconds, it seems like nothing’s happening, the time isn’t speeding up—in fact, it feels like it’s slowing down. But right then, everything kicks into high gear. It’s terrifying, seeing everyone move like he’s watching a time-lapse, the people he can see moving through the glass are only blurry figures with no decipherable features. He and Minseok, they’re standing there, paralyzed, so the world can move on without them.

Jongdae can’t bring himself to close his eyes, he’s mesmerized by the spectacle unfolding before him, the way the sun and the stars dance across the sky. It reminds him of one of those long-exposure photographs, eternity enclosed in a single image, a brief glimpse into forever. He can't imagine the loneliness Minseok would have to endure if he were to do this alone. Because even if it’s only a few minutes from their perspective, it’s passing so agonizingly slowly, the sluggish pace killing him a little with each counted second. 

He feels Minseok tighten his embrace, his arms crushing Jongdae’s ribs. “Breathe in and out, like that. It’s almost over, we’re almost where—when—we want to be, my love,” he tells him.

Then, everything rapidly stops moving and Jongdae's stomach sinks, the sick feeling overwhelming him. Were they wrong? Is everything broken now? He closes his eyes, not able to keep looking, it only makes him second-guess everything. Someone taps him on the shoulder, bringing him back to reality.

“It’s over, Dae. You did it, it’s all over,” he hears Junmyeon’s voice through the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He’s afraid to open his eyes to face the reality, he feels Minseok move.

“Dae, please, it’s really over. You can let go of me.”

Jongdae opens his eyes, feeling that his cheeks are considerably wet, the same thing with the fabric on Minseok's shoulder, he didn’t even notice that he was crying. He wipes the wet trails with his sleeve. “Sorry, I don’t know—I’m sorry.”

The world forced him to move on, so this must be his catharsis. At least he hopes that it is. He’s crying for all those times he stopped himself from doing it.

Now it’s Minseok’s time to comfort him. “It’s alright, Dae. It’s all fine. We're fine,” he says quietly like he's not sure himself.

Jongdae can't express how much he wants to believe him, but instead, he hugs Minseok tighter, burrowing his face in the crook of his neck. He can't stop shaking.

👁️👁️👁️

The bus stop is all fogged up and the street light behind it makes it hard for Minseok to read the timetable. Is this one even up to date? God only knows, maybe the city council decided to stop printing them since everyone’s connected to the internet now. Minseok squints at the incoming bus, it’s the one he’s waiting for.

“Have you learned how merging lines work?” Jongdae asks instead of saying hello.

“Has your therapist told you to stop being so mean?” Minseok doesn’t miss a beat.

“She adores my sass, how dare you,” Jongdae laughs. He takes Minseok’s hand and squeezes it tightly. “Please get your license soon, I miss not having to use public transport,” he says as he kicks a random pebble on the sidewalk.

“Do keep me around only because of my car?”

“Mostly, but I also keep you around because I love you.”

Minseok laughs, he wouldn’t have expected anything else from this man. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> the title is a reference to a wtnv quote "mostly void, partially stars" as well as a real estimate of the composition of the universe, which is strangely terrifying tbh. but my existential fears aside, thank you for reading! i hope everything goes well for you, dear reader.


End file.
